


Tongue Twister: Our Angel With the Accidentally Filthy Mouth

by minervamoon



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Ancient Rome, Drunk idiots, Drunken Flirting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27695129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minervamoon/pseuds/minervamoon
Summary: An angel and demon look at clouds while drunk.  Things go downhill from there.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40
Collections: NTA #10 - GO Events Server - Cumulonimbus





	Tongue Twister: Our Angel With the Accidentally Filthy Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Pyracantha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyracantha/profile) for inspiration for the subtitle.

“The clouds are pretty,” said Crowley, basking in the warmth of the sun, an angel’s smile, and wine. Happy, fluffy clouds passed overhead, but off in the distance thunderclouds were lurking. This would have to end soon. He wished it didn’t. 

“Yes,” agreed Aziraphale, sounding pleasantly buzzed himself. “Lovely cum-cu-cunnilingus just over there, aren’t they?”

Crowley, who had been finishing off the last of the wine in his cup, choked and gagged. He squawked out, “What?!” through coughing and wheezing.

“Those clouds.” Aziraphale didn’t seem to notice Crowley nearly about to discorporate by choking and rolled from his partially reclined position on the lounge they were sharing to point, which draped his torso rather nicely across Crowley’s lap and caused the angel’s tunic to ride up just a bit. Not that Crowley was looking. “They’re cun-ni-lingus.”

Crowley barked a laugh. “They’re not, angel. They’re really not.”

Aziraphale frowned at him, and it was far more adorable than it had any right to be. Were all drunk angels this cute? Crowley was beginning to think it was an Aziraphale-only trait. “Yes, they are,” the angel said with a supercilious tone. 

Supercilious? Crowley frowned to himself. He was spending too much time around the angel if he was starting to think in words like that, while drunk even. “I can say with absolute certainty that those are not cunnilingus.” He was barely able to keep from laughing as he said it.

“Then what, pray tell, are they?” Aziraphale’s eyebrows rose to nearly his hair as he waited for Crowley’s answer. The picture of divine patience.

He could be such a bastard sometimes. 

Crowley adored it. 

“How the bloody hell should I know?” asked Crowley, unable to keep himself from smiling down at the angel in his lap. “I just know they’re definitely, one hundred percent _not_ cunnilingus.”

Aziraphale’s expression turned to one of annoyance. Not at Crowley. Crowley knew that look and this wasn’t it. This was annoyance at not knowing something while Crowley did. 

“Then what are they then?” asked the angel. ‘If you’re so smart,’ was not said but implied heavily in his tone.

Crowley was just drunk enough to think answering with, “I could show you if you’d like,” was a good idea. He watched Aziraphale open his mouth to answer, his eyes focused on the shape of the angel’s soft-looking lips. He held his breath in anticipation.

Aziraphale jerked in sudden surprise and fell off his lap onto the stone beneath them. “Dash it all,” Crowley heard him mutter. “Always when I’m in the middle of something.”

Crowley let out the held breath as inconspicuously as he could. “Summons?”

A disgruntled noise of affirmation left the angel’s lips and he picked himself up off the ground. He gave a grunt of concentration that Crowley recognized as him sobering up. Aziraphale’s cheeks turned bright pink.

“Cumulonimbus,” said Aziraphale softly. “That was-er-goodbye.” 

Crowley watched the angel hurry away. From the distance came a roll of thunder. 


End file.
